At Her Majesty's Pleasure
by Child of the Ashes
Summary: Before Ichigo could help it, instinct overcame caution. The hollow snarled softly. Orihime was defying his true nature, teasing him, daring him to come out and play.


**Title: Her Majesty's Pleasure**

**Warnings: Crack. Randomness. Blatantly crude innuendos.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, kids.**

()()()

"Wait. _What…_?"

Ichigo froze, blinking at Orihime's last comment as his hollow quite forcefully slammed on the mental brakes.

His ice cream lost its appeal, hovering a breath in front of his mouth, and he wasn't certain where to attribute the instant headache that followed that statement. Just the thought of his naïve fiancée discussing _that_ with Rukia.

He frowned, mouth pressing into a line.

"Rukia thinks he must be overcompensating."

What the hell? Where did Rukia get off telling Orihime this stuff?

The top scoop of his ice cream fell at his feet with a wet plop, and he glared at it where it lay, inches from the top of his shoe.

_And wait just a damn second… _If Ichigo's hollow was overcompensating, that was indirectly like saying _Ichigo_ was overcompensating. Not to mention, now, he would have to explain what overcompensating was to his naïve fiancée and that— _that!_ was just going to open the floodgates on an already overactive imagination.

_Damn Rukia. _Would it really be too much to ask that she leave even some small corner of his life private?

"The answer is no, Orihime."

"But, Ichigo-kun…"

Ichigo blinked, gaze dropping to her mouth as a plump lower lip pushed past the upper, forming one of her more effective weapons. His eyes widened. _Damn it… not that face._ Cursing aloud, he spun around, reinforcing his defenses as well as his napkin when another bit of ice cream dribbled down his fingers.

_I'm not looking… I am not fucking looking… _

But he _knew_ that lip was trembling, and then her eyes would be filling with tears, and then—

"Son of a—" He groaned, conceding defeat. "Fine."

Orihime squealed, pitch reaching earsplitting decibels, tackling him from behind. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him senseless, leaving him to dodge her ice cream as well as his own. And seriously, how did she manage to make him feel like a hero and a creep all at once?

He disentangled himself before she forgot her frozen treat altogether and it ended up down his shirt.

Really, that was all he needed.

"Don't thank me yet. I don't exactly know how to do this, or if it's even possible."

Ichigo ignored the comments wafting from his inner world, but Orihime wasn't even listening to him. She was ticking off all the things she wanted to try and some of them… He flushed, wondering what else Rukia had been teaching his now questionably innocent girlfriend.

"I don't know how you do that anyways." He took a bite of his cone before tossing the rest into the trash. "Talk me into things when I fucking _know_ I should say no."

Orihime glanced up, blinked and tilted her head to the side. "Tatsuki says it's because I don't have a gag reflex."

Ichigo choked and choked _hard_.

"Although," She placed a finger under her chin. "I'm not really sure what food has to do with being persuasive. Oh!" She spun around, hands clasped behind her, walking backward, which was a feat in and of itself, considering she could hardly walk _forward_. "Do you think it's—"

Still struggling for coherent thought, Ichigo clamped a hand over her mouth before his head imploded. Then, he made a mental note to kill Rukia and Tatuski at the first possible opportunity as he spun Orihime back around.

Damn. Why were all the women in his life out for blood?

()()()

Urahara stared, openmouthed, while Ichigo fidgeted, doing whatever was necessary not to look the man in the eye.

"You… want…"

Ichigo glared. "Don't make me say it again."

But for once, even Urahara didn't seem to have a cunning rejoinder. The man closed his mouth then opened it again. "I really didn't think she was that kind of girl."

Back stiffening, Ichigo said nothing, barely resisting the urge to crawl into his inner world and strangle the harbinger of this newest form of social torture. _Say a word and I swear I'll make him stick you into the mind of something cute and furry. _

However, his white-haired counterpart was strangely silent, _for once_, watching this newest turn of events with enrapt fascination. But just one little snicker… one little crack… and Ichigo was going to snap the bastard's neck in four places.

His hollow didn't make a sound.

Urahara shifted.

"Well, there are plenty of items that could meet your particular… uh, _needs_, but—"

Ichigo ran a hand over his face.

"Just get them."

()()()

Ichigo sighed, glancing up to see his fiancée dance around the apartment, stretching on tiptoes to dust a shelf while humming a cheerful tune he found to be particularly at odds with his foreboding mood. He shook his head and stood, scowling down at the things in front of him.

"What was I thinking to agree to this?"

Orihime peeked over her shoulder at his irritated grumble, giving a smile before dropping a kiss on his cheek. She flitted away again, picking up various knickknacks and transferring them to different locations.

He frowned when she picked up a vase and stuffed it into the closet.

"What are you doing?"

"Hmm? I thought I'd put away everything breakable."

"Put away everything…"

Just what in the hell did she think was going to happen that things were going to get broken?

But the answer was obvious.

Ichigo just stared at her. She looked quite proud of her own foresight.

"I'm marrying a crazy woman... Fucking insane..."

Shaking his head again, he went back to sorting out the various tools on the floor.

Chains... Taser… He didn't even want to think about what fifty thousand volts felt like. Crowbar… Just in case. And finally, a glass vial containing one small round pill.

"What's that for?"

He looked up to see Orihime leaning over his shoulder, pointing at the very ordinary looking crowbar. Resigning himself to the inevitable, he stood, grabbing a chair he was reasonably sure he couldn't break. "That's in case something goes wrong."

"From Urahara-san? What does it do?"

"It's a crowbar. It's heavy." He shrugged. "And blunt."

Her eyes widened. "You want me to—"

"Hit me with it. Yeah, preferably in the head if you can manage it. But only if this doesn't work." He nudged the taser with his toe before settling the chair in the center of the room.

"But I can't do that!"

"That's the deal breaker, Orihime. I need to know that if something goes wrong, I'm not going to fucking hurt you. If you can't do it, we call the whole thing off right now."

She took a deep breath and bit her lip while Ichigo contemplated the ridiculousness of demanding she be willing to hit him in critical areas with dense, metal objects. But it wasn't like he would feel it. At least, he _hoped_ he wouldn't. In the ideal situation, she would have him patched up before he came to.

Orihime looked doubtful, and he wondered if she was seeing just how dangerous and stupid this whole thing—

"Alright, Ichigo-kun."

She gave a determined nod and Ichigo fought not to fall over. _Well, don't think too hard on it or anything…_

He pressed his lips together before shaking it off.

"Okay, this is how it works. I get in the chair and you chain me to it. Here's the key. When we're sure I can't get out, give me the pill and get ready. If I do anything weird or start to get loose…" He looked back at her, measuring her resolve. "You sure you want to do this?"

Her smile was his only answer before she gave him a small push, and he landed in the chair.

"You aren't getting out of it that easily, Kurosaki-san."

"You really are crazy. This is the stupidest thing we've ever tried."

She looped the chains around his middle, and Ichigo willingly brought his arms back, instructing her as she went.

"Make sure to get my feet."

"Like this?"

The key clicked in the lock, and he glanced down, tugging at his restraints before putting all his strength into it, drawing the chains taut and trying to wriggle free. He grunted, relaxing to bring the feeling back to his arms. "That should do it."

Orihime stood, the small pill in her fingers. "Say, ahh…"

"Hey! Wait—"

The pill slid down his throat and he looked up to see Orihime take a step back, the key dangling from her neck, arm still poised, watching him cautiously.

Damn it. Okay, he _had_ said to give him the pill after the chains were on, but he thought he'd have more time to prepare. Mentally. Threaten his hollow a bit first or something.

Ichigo opened his mouth to say… something, but he found his tongue wasn't working.

It was like being put under for surgery, but instead of feeling heavy and warm, a chill ran down his spine. His vision tunneled, consciousness wavering. He fought, but it was as hopeless. It felt like a cold hand reached up to drag him down into a dark sea.

_If you hurt her… I swear, I'll cut you into a thousand goddamn pieces…_

Wicked laughter surrounded him as his awareness wavered, and he fell.

()()()

Orihime took another step back, confidence wavering as Ichigo's head lulled.

The wild urge to hide behind the furniture hit her out of nowhere, and she might have done it if her legs had obeyed. Maybe Ichigo was right. This probably was the most reckless thing she had ever—

He stirred without warning. Head lifting from his chest, he shook it, and she stumbled another step, watching, not quite certain what to do.

_Did it work? _

She took a breath to ask when he jerked against the chains, head snapping up, golden eyes pinning her.

Orihime shrank back, drawing in a shaky breath.

Fantasizing about this was one thing… but now that he was staring her down, the sheer overwhelming force of his presence made her knees weak. The feel of his spiritual pressure was a hunger so cruel and ravenous it was like another entity in itself. She had no doubt that even the smallest mistake would result in all kinds of grievous repercussions she wasn't prepared to deal with.

_Then again… _

She watched as he gave the chains another violent yank, pulling and straining, totally fixed on gaining his freedom.

The chair groaned under the assault. It creaked and complained, but the chains held fast.

Orihime straightened, easing away from the door and the assorted weapons on the floor. As long as the bonds were working, she didn't need to be too worried.

This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, after all. It would be a shame to waste it.

And… he had a strange sort of beauty.

Curiosity picked at her, tingling down her spine.

She wanted to touch him. Whether just to verify that he actually sat there or because she knew she shouldn't.

He looked like Ichigo. The same hard body, bright orange locks hanging over his eyes, dark lashes so heavy they seemed to weigh down his lids. It made him appear sleepy and disturbingly awake all at the same time. But the similarities stopped there. Instead of a steady brown gaze, molten gold flashed at her from eyes that had yet to leave her form, and his expression was wickedness incarnate.

She needed to get a grip. Her breathing was getting heavier and she had to wet her lips before taking a step forward.

_"Ori-hi-me…"_

He drew the syllables out like a song and her muscles jerked to a stop.

There was something in that voice. Something that told her she was going to regret bringing him out.

Was this really the other half of Ichigo's soul? How did he stand it? The hollow had yet to actually _do_ anything and she was already terrified.

Maybe… Maybe she should go. Just leave the apartment until he was back to normal and try to forget that this whole stupid thing was her idea from the start.

But she couldn't move.

Those eyes were hypnotizing. Wild and feral, and she really, really wanted to touch him. Just once.

And after all, she was the one that wanted to know all of Ichigo. Even the dark bits. All she had to do was be brave enough to accept him.

"Take off the chains, princess. Then maybe I won't kill you too painfully." He smiled, slow, deliberate. "'Cause every second longer I'm in these, is another second I'm going to keep you alive, and not in the good way."

Orihime shivered as his voice slid over her, dark and malicious, but she stepped forward obediently, feet dragging over the hardwood.

"Good girl. Closer." His grin widened. _"Closer,_ Orihime."

She watched him with careful eyes, afraid to look away. She shuffled closer, until she was only a few feet away.

Just as the hem of her robe brushed his knee, the hollow lunged, jerking against the chains. The metal links clanked, the chair's wood cracking under the strain.

Orihime gasped at his sudden movement, struck by the sheer and sudden force of his crushing riatsu. The air felt thick. Too thick to breathe. Head whipping around, eyes watering, she tried to find where Ichigo had left the taser, but she knew it would already be too late even if she had the courage to use it, but what choice did she have. The chair sounded as if it would fall apart any moment.

It didn't however.

Without warning, whatever spells were embedded into the chains flickered to life, leeching away the hollow's raging spiritual power. A surge of blue light surrounded him, flaring and waning in a single burst. The hollow roared in frustration, continuing to struggle, but the chains stayed put, keeping him firmly trapped.

Orihime stumbled at the abrupt relief, falling against him before she could shake herself and jerk back away.

The hollow snarled, snapping his teeth and narrowly missing her throat.

"Bitch! What the hell was that?"

She fumbled. "I-I don't know…"

He glared at her and Orihime flinched, knowing full well what she was seeing in that sizzling, electric stare. Fury. Pure and unadulterated, and directed entirely at her.

His legs were still moving under the chair, struggling for freedom.

"Let me out. _Now."_

She wasn't certain where the courage came from, whether it was rooted in self-preservation or some other reckless sense of fascination, but she shook her head.

"N-no."

"What?"

It was a hiss, a growl that rumbled all the way through his chest. Orihime lifted her chin, hands clenching in the fabric at her sides, voice steady.

"I said no."

He went still, eyes narrowing as if reconsidering her.

Then the slow smile was back, disturbingly intense, coming just as quickly as it had disappeared.

"And here I thought you were spineless." His eyes slid down her body before raking their way back up. "Alright, princess, I'll play. What the fuck do you want?"

Orihime licked her lips, swallowed. "I-I wanted…"

He arched a brow.

"I wanted…"

The hollow snorted. "You get me all the way here, and you're gonna go all tongue tied on me?"

"I wanted to meet you."

"Well, give her a fucking prize, she finally spit it out. Now, here's the hard question. _Why?"_

She shifted under his critical assessment, frowning. What did he mean _why?_ Wasn't it obvious?

"Because you're a part of Ichigo."

"Tch. Sounds greedy to me. You already have you're prince. You don't need a hollow."

Orihime wrinkled her nose, scrunching the delicate skin. She shook her head. "I just wanted to know if you could ever…" She floundered, realizing how strange it sounded to actually say it out loud. "L-like me…" she added, lamely. "I want to be friends."

His grin was fierce, showing his teeth.

"Princess, you let me out of this and what I'll _like_ is every second of eating you alive. Besides, hollows don't make friends, we make allies." He smiled again. "_Sometimes_."

She didn't know what possessed her. She thought that maybe he was just trying to scare her.

"I don't believe you."

He stopped dead, but only for a second before his sharp laughter cut the space between them, ending on a vicious grin. "Let me loose and find out."

He was daring her.

His tongue snuck out to lick his lips, and that look, the hints of amusement and potent heat, gave her courage.

She lifted her chin and stepped forward.

Knowing she would never gain respect by backing down, Orihime closed the last remaining distance, fumbling a bit as she straddled his lap, steadying herself by clutching at his shoulders.

He went stiff, the muscles under her hands bunching as though he didn't want to be touched or maybe didn't trust her. The glare returned, and Orihime distracted herself by concentrating on the feel of his legs digging into the soft flesh of her thighs.

This wasn't so bad. As long as she ignored the angry stare directed her way.

Although, it was one thing to be in complete control of a fantasy, it was another to be acting it out in very real, very _dangerous_ life. She wasn't the type of girl who did things like this, and she felt more than a little out of her depth.

Which was probably the least she should have expected with Ichigo's hollow.

Willing herself not to tremble, Orihime leaned in, the robe inching up around her waist. He struggled against the bindings again and she latched on closer to keep from sliding backward into the floor.

_Now or never…_

Orihime gripped his shirt tight and smashed her lips against his.

For a moment, he seemed shocked still, and she pulled back to gauge his reaction.

He blinked.

"Are you fucking suicidal?"

"W-what?"

The hollow's only response was to continue glowering at her.

Maybe that had been a mistake. It certainly hadn't been like one of her and Ichigo's kisses.

She frowned, biting her lower lip. "You didn't like it?"

"It was half-assed!"

Orihime sputtered, insulted, before jabbing a finger into his chest. "But you weren't helping!"

There was absolutely nothing wrong with her kisses! They were good. More than good! There was something wrong with _him._ What if hollows didn't kiss? Come to think of it, she couldn't remember actually seeing such a thing.

Orihime crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the buttons of Ichigo's shirt.

Maybe Rukia was right… Maybe he _couldn't._

His eyes narrowed. "What's that look? What the hell are you thinking about?"

But Orihime barely heard him. Which was it? Could he not do it or was he simply not attracted to her?

She tilted her head to the side and gave him the critical eye. She could ask, but she had yet to get one straight reply from him.

More research was definitely needed.

Orihime nodded.

There was only one way to do this and it was only _mostly_ coincidental that it corresponded so well with what she had dreamed about trying in the first place.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she leaned down and ran her tongue up his neck to that place just behind his ear that drove Ichigo crazy. He stiffened, an inarticulate sound making its way up the back of his throat. She considered it, and deciding it wasn't a discouraging noise, did it again.

She took her time, running her fingers up and into the hair at the base of his neck.

It was probably a risky gamble, and something she had never been able to do with Ichigo. A chance to caress him to her hearts content while he kept his hands to himself.

Almost absently, she trailed fingers around to the base of his throat before moving to trace his jaw, still tasting velvet skin and tone muscle under her tongue.

Orihime nipped his collarbone and heard a very distinct growl tickle her ear.

He struggled, wrestling harder than before trying to break free with little success. Realizing she had probably taken it farther than she meant to, Orihime pulled back only to be startled by his ferocious expression.

Her breath caught, lungs forgetting to draw air.

His teeth were clenched and barred, and there was no mistaking the look in his eyes.

"Take the damn chains off _now_."

She shivered, gaze falling back to his mouth, barely leaning in before he surged forward to catch her. Even with his lips and tongue and teeth being the only way he could initiate contact, Orihime was surprised at how out of control she felt.

_This_ was more like one of her and Ichigo's kisses.

And despite her earlier wish of wanting to explore without interference, she was shaken by how much she wanted him to touch her. Her skin ached for the heat and pressure of strong hands. But Orihime wasn't stupid enough to think that just because he was kissing back, he wouldn't turn violent if she let him loose.

_It's getting out of hand…_

She pushed that thought down, kissing him with all the expertise she could work up. Her hands were back in his hair and she pushed up on her knees to get a better vantage. She pressed harder, her tongue easily dominated by his as she struggled not to be outdone. When her nails scraped his scalp, he growled against her mouth and his teeth sunk into her lip.

Orihime yelped, jerking back and pressing her fingers to the wound reflexively.

He… _bit_ her.

She looked up and yelped, toppling straight off his lap.

Those eyes. Opaque black and glowing gold fixed on her form, burning with something so intense it bordered on madness. His shoulders rose and fell every time he hauled in a breath, and the chorded muscles of his throat stood out as he ground his teeth.

He fought, straining against his bonds.

"Get back here."

Orihime flinched, and then blinked as something else caught her attention.

Small red droplets fell to the floor behind the chair and it took her a second to comprehend what it was. He had struggled so hard, the chains and cuffs binding his wrists broke the skin.

She sat frozen, staring at the crimson liquid, guilt prickling like sharp needles at her spine.

"I-I'm sorry..."

He snarled. "Not nearly enough."

Orihime scrambled to her feet, wondering what to do. She hadn't meant for Ichigo to get hurt, and although she knew it would take her less than thirty seconds to reject it, she still felt the little stabs of responsibility. And fear. He was livid.

_What should I do?_

How had she ever thought she was prepared for this? He wasn't human. He didn't have lighter emotions, they were all dark and just as demented as he was, and why hadn't she figured that out sooner?

The room had gone silent.

Orihime focused back into reality.

Although his shoulders still lifted with the force of his breathing, his eyes had dropped, lingering around her middle and she looked down to see that her robe had fallen open, exposing the particularly naughty outfit she chose for the occasion. Lilac lace that only barely covered the necessities.

But that was back when she'd still thought this was a good plan.

She had forgotten about that. She picked it because it set off the grey of her eyes and the red in her hair all at the same time, and because she knew Ichigo preferred her in lighter colors. It was flimsy and probably wasn't the best choice for something like this, except Orihime thought she could use every advantage she could get. She'd never imagined the situation going like this, though, and given the circumstances, it was most definitely _not_ helping.

She snatched the robe closed, but the damage was already done. His head tilted to the side and he flashed teeth.

Kami, he looked like he wanted to devour her.

She took a step back and he changed tact so quickly, she could hardly follow it.

"Fucking tease."

"W-what?"

"Kind of rude not to finish what you start, little mouse."

Orihime frowned.

_Little mouse? _

What happened to princess? Or Orihime? Even though it was somewhat creepy to hear him speak her name, it was better than being called _mouse_. Is that what he thought of her, that she could only run?

"I… I'm not a mouse. And I'm not afraid of you. You're only trying to scare me."

His grin held all the mercy of a starving tiger. "I haven't shown you scary, yet. Let me out and maybe I will."

Orihime crossed her arms under her chest, not sure if it was a defensive gesture or an act of defiance. She wasn't a coward. She _wasn't_.

She walked forward and marveled at how completely relaxed he seemed. He slouched back and looked up at her with a challenging gaze and an arrogant grin, as if he were perfectly content to be subjugated below her. It was an act, of course. He would spring at the first chance for freedom.

_If_ she was stupid enough to give him one.

Orihime avoided those confident eyes and tried to pretend that this was just one of her and Ichigo's games. And there was no need for her to be nervous, because she _wasn't_ afraid. Not at all.

_Nope. Just me… just me all alone with Ichigo-kun's very powerful, very sadistic hollow, trying to prove a completely childish point. Really, what's to worry about?_

She slid back onto his lap and realized she didn't have a plan. How long would he stay in control? She could probably distract him until Ichigo came back, but there wasn't any guarantee.

Orihime stole a peek at him under her lashes only to find him watching her back, scrutinizing her with keen golden eyes. They fell to her mouth and it occurred to her that the hollow was trying to manipulate her. Which wasn't surprising, but what he was trying to manipulate her into was.

He _wanted_ her to kiss him, and she didn't quite know what to make of that.

But she had never been one to deny Ichigo what he wanted. Well, except maybe undoing the chains, but that was prearranged.

She licked her lips and hesitating only a second longer, kissed him again.

The contact was razor-sharp.

Pinpricks of energy shot through her lips and along her jaw, and she gasped against his mouth at the power of it.

He was like a force of nature, barely restrained. Like a hurricane or a firestorm. Energy poured off him, dark but addictive all the same, and she wondered if the chains would be able to hold it all.

His tongue worked over hers, taking as he pleased, exploring, licking, biting, until she couldn't think straight any longer.

Her skin tingled, heart thundering in her chest as blood pounded under flushed skin. Even his taste was exciting and it provoked a wild response in her. Her hands found his hair and she tugged it as she strained closer, pressing their bodies together. His growl startled her, because for a just a moment she had forgotten that it wasn't Ichigo.

She broke from his mouth, taking deep breaths, palms tingling as she raked them down his chest. She wanted to feel heat and velvet skin stretched over hard muscle, and why hadn't she thought to take off his dumb shirt _before_ she had tied him to the chair?

She tugged at it impatiently, frustrated that it was between her and all that delicious flesh.

Orihime gasped when he bit her, scraping teeth against her shoulder before closing his mouth over the tender curvature. A whimper tumbled past her lips, tongue pressed to the back of her teeth as she arched into it. He bit hard enough to mark, but instead of pain the sharp sting made her hyper-aware. Adrenaline flashed through her, heightening her perception into a maelstrom of frenzied sensations.

She cried out.

Her nipples tightened to excruciating points and she crushed herself to him, trying to alleviate the ache as her nails sunk into his shoulders.

She wanted… Kami, she needed Ichigo to come back. She needed his hands on her, his weight pressing her down, his body pushing in to hers.

Orihime panted, burying her face under his jaw, tasting his neck, barely mindful of her own actions as she licked and kissed and moaned. Her hands were out of control, scratching or rubbing, trying to touch as much of him as possible. His shirt came undone beneath her questing fingers and she was only partly aware of slipping the buttons free, just enough to expose the slight contour that ran down the center of his chest.

He groaned as her mouth followed the newly exposed path.

A ache began between her legs, throbbing and painful, and she whined against his skin, almost sobbing with the force of the need taking over her. Her hips ground down against his, a thoughtless reaction, and he hissed, jerking, writhing against the restraints, straining to prolong the contact.

He wrenched with his arms, fighting to get free.

"Take the chains off, princess."

Her hands were obeying before she realized it, reaching up for the key around her neck.

She froze. What was she doing? She couldn't let him out. He would… Well, he would probably ravish her, which sounded like heaven or hell or she didn't know what and didn't much care, but after that? What then?

No. She _couldn't_.

Dropping the key back between her breasts, she took a shaky breath and shook her head.

"I can't…"

He thrashed again, growling, aggravated. "When I get out of here, you are so fucked."

Orihime swallowed, shivering at the dark edge to his tone. She shifted, rising just enough to snake her hands between their bodies.

Closing her eyes, she concentrated on her movements and trying not to hurt him unintentionally as she undid the buttons on his pants, freeing him. He drew a harsh breath as her small hand closed around him.

Shuddering under her tentative strokes, the hollow panted, momentarily pacified.

Ichigo rarely let her touch him this way, preferring instead to lavish attention on her, but the hollow was arching into it, dropping his head back with a visceral groan.

It was spellbinding. The muscles of his throat and jaw contracted, chest heaving, arms still pulling at the bindings holding him back. It gave her a mouthwatering taste of power to see him vulnerable in that way, completely enslaved to her touch.

Still, she wanted more. Her own ache was so fierce it filled her head, pushing sensible thought aside.

Orihime wiggled, trying to get better contact with his addicting hardness, making frustrated sounds when it still wasn't enough. Holding her breath, she pushed lace aside, rubbed the tip of his erection against her opening, coating the tip, gasping at the rush of sensation.

He growled a curse, attempting to speed her movements, trying to thrust up into her. The soft tip brushed over the nerves perched at the top of her sex and she cried out again, moving back and feeling the slick head press past resistance.

Orihime gripped his shoulders, scarcely aware of her nails clawing into flesh as she barred down on him.

Her spine arched and he hissed, cursing again when she wiggled as far down as she could go. She craved his touch, but knew she couldn't have it. So instead, Orihime concentrated on her own motions.

She lifted, moaning as she pushed back up, leg muscles tightening as her toes curled. Kami, it felt _good_ and he kept hissing dirty words that made her tingle all over, kept her burning and melting against him. The hollow caught her breast with his mouth and she gasped, clutching at his head as she sank back down.

Pleasure shot through her, the friction shooting sparks behind closed lids. His tongue stroked over her chest, rasping against her nipple, catching and releasing as she rode him in short, shallow strokes that kept him deep inside, hitting that place where she needed it.

Orihime cried out, begging, even though she was the one setting the pace. Fingers tangled into his hair, tugging with every downward stroke.

She could feel it. She was already so _close_…

Her mouth found his and she bit him in her excitement. He growled, surging against her, pushing his tongue deeper into her mouth to wrestle away the only control he could. The pressure inside her contracted, building to an almost painful pleasure. She ground down hard, gasping and hearing the hollow's sharp intake as he tore his mouth away to spit another curse.

Her body strained, every muscle contracting as she came, crying out against his shoulder when her body tightened around him, pulsing and constricting, riding waves of feeling that seemed to go on forever. She thought she heard him groan, but her heart was pounding so hard it echoed in her head and she might have only imagined it, still trapped in floods of euphoria as liquid fire shot through her belly.

When she could think again, she blinked, releasing the death grip she had around his neck, sitting up and sliding off as though waking from a dream. She was shaking as her breathing settled, the after effects of the adrenaline slowly fading. Honestly, she was surprised her legs didn't give out.

Burning golden eyes stared back at her, a smirk curving satisfied lips before it turned into a full malicious grin. "One more reason to hate King."

Orihime shook her head, pushing back the last bit of fuzziness. "I don't know what that—"

"Don't worry about it. You've got your own problems." He flashed teeth. "Cause the second I get out, nothing in three fucking worlds is going to be able to stop me from having you."

()()()

Orihime stared at the ceiling, hearing the hollow's words echo against the sound of Ichigo's peaceful slumber later that night.

It was an odd feeling. She wasn't sure whether to be terrified or flattered by that statement.

Ichigo had always said that his hollow didn't understand anything that couldn't be meted out with the sharp point of a sword. And although she knew he was terrifying, a part of her felt a stab of pride. If he thought he needed to pay her back, then that meant she'd won, didn't it?

So as much as she was dreading their next meeting, Orihime was kind of looking forward to it a little bit. And she knew he was too.

Orihime snuggled closer to Ichigo's side, closing her eyes and smiling to herself.

Silly hollow, he already had her.

**A/N**

**Yay! Well, it's finally finished. I hope it didn't suck too bad. Might do a sequel, possibly. We'll just have to see if inspiration strikes. :)**


End file.
